A Fine Line
by crow-of-murders
Summary: Things that should be kept separate are usually kept separate. Demons and Shinigami, blind lust and emotion, love and hate. But there are those who thrive in the small space in between. WillxSeb
1. Chapter 1

This is the result of a discussion on the William x Sebastian forum on bb. net about possible emotional attachments and those sorts of fun things. Fear not, there will be violent smut, as there must be in this pairing, a little later. Disclaimer: I own nothing! XXXXX Flashes of red and black darted between the narrow walls if the alleyway as an inhuman battle raged in midair. The loud buzzing of a supernatural chainsaw and the romantic poetry of a flamboyant shinigami filled the air as the rivals fought chaotically above the observing child's head. The boy could barely see the fight; It was simply too fast for the human eye to catch or for the human brain to comprehend. All he knew was that his demon was winning. He had no choice. And he was winning. In fact, he had practically guaranteed his victory when he rendered useless his opponent's weapon. He had to destroy a very nice coat in the process, but it would have to be thrown out anyway. The reaper had ruined it with his abominable chainsaw. With a loud yell of 'Not the face!', a red blur came crashing down towards the boy and slid across the cobblestone after the butler kicked him. After a quick apology to his master, Sebastian resumed beating the pathetic god until he begged for mercy. Of course, he wasn't going to grant it. He was under orders to kill the shinigami, and could not disobey. Besides, he was rather enjoying himself.

Just before the demon brought down the saw and brutally slaughtered the reaper, a metal pole suddenly appeared out of the sky and interrupted the killing. All three people in the alleyway looked up to the rooftop, where a shadowy figure stood on a narrow chimney.

From the moment he looked upon the intruder, Sebastian froze. As the silhouette reflected against the cloudy night sky, he couldn't help but feel helpless and unprepared. His stomach began to twist into anxious knots as the man spoke.

"Forgive me for interrupting you mid-conversation. I am one of the supervisors of the Reaper Dispatch Organization, William T. Spears." he adjusted his glasses "I have come to bring that reaper back."

He jumped from the roof and landed on the red shinigami's head, crushing it into the ground. Sebastian's heart rate sped up dramatically now that the reaper was standing before him.

This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening.

He repeated over and over in his head as the reaper spoke. Not a single word from the other man's mouth registered with the astounded demon, as he was in utter shock for the time being. The knots in his stomach tightened painfully and beads of sweat formed on his skin. He struggled to keep his breathing steady and calm like the expression on his face.

William hopped off Grell's body and bowed.

"I apologize profusely for any trouble caused by this." he said, reaching into his coat with his death scythe. Sebastian never understood why he used the scythe for things like this. It was making things more difficult in his opinion. "Ah, here is my business card."

Sebastian took the card between two fingers and continued to stare blankly at the shinigami; a complete contrast to the racing emotions within him.

"Honestly, having to bow my head to vermin like you really does smear mud across the reaper name."

A brief, flattered look crossed the demon's face. He remembered how the shinigami used to tease him by saying things like this. It was a little odd having him be serious about it.

That's right. He was serious about it. Things were very different now.

This was the time for bitterness and spite.

"Well, in order for you to not cause the 'vermin' further inconvenience, please keep a close watch." he retorted, tossing the expensive business card onto the ground of the rotten alley. "Humans are vulnerable to temptation. When they are forced to stand on the hellish precipice of despair, they will unfailingly take any route out of it that appears before them, no matter what kind of web it tangles them in, no matter what kind of person they are."

"The ones who take advantage of that and taunt humans are you demons, no?"

"I am not denying that."

"I suppose that those dogs kept leashed as pets are better than the mad dogs that roam around with no principles. Well then, we shall return, Grell Sutcliffe..."

William dragged Grell by the hair across the pavement, Sebastian staring after him. The seriousness, the icy daggers that shot from that man's eyes caused something to shatter inside of Sebastian. He disregarded it, deciding that whatever it was would have to wait until his master was warm in bed before he would deal with it. Even then, he had other things to take care of before morning. Yes, it would have to wait until he had the time. And as the butler for the Phantomhive, he never had time.

Sebastian realized moments later that he was still in possession of the chainsaw with which he had tried to kill Grell. He certainly didn't want to keep it. He wanted this night washed from his memory as much as possible.

It was rather unfortunate, because he had been having fun earlier beating up Grell. But then he had to arrive and mess everything up for him in every way possible. Suddenly angry, Sebastian hurled the death scythe at William, wanting nothing more than to see him bleeding on the pavement.

The death god caught the weapon between two fingers and glanced back.

"You almost forgot that" Sebastian said cheerfully.

"Thank you." he replied, not a hint of gratefulness in his tone. He dropped the scythe onto its incapacitated owner and disappeared out of the alleyway.

Sebastian stared longingly for a moment, wishing more than anything that he could follow the reaper, but he couldn't. He had a duty to his master. He had given up the chance to chase reapers long ago.

He forced himself to turn around towards the child sitting on the bloodstained floor of the alleyway.

"I must apologize. Half of Jack the Ripper escaped." he said regretfully.

"It's fine. It's over." whispered the dazed boy.

He went into autopilot butler mode and prattled on about getting his master home and safe, though his thoughts were far from trivial things such as preparing warm milk. It was only when the boy began to fall that Sebastian snapped back to the present and caught his master. Momentary shock came over him when his hand was slapped away.

"Bochan..."

"I can stand on my own. It's just...I'm slightly fatigued."

Sebastian watched as his master began to walk out of the alleyway, determined to do it by himself. He caught up quickly- he wanted to be close behind in case his master fell again- but he took the time to locate and retrieve the business card that he had recently discarded.

He had a feeling that he might be needing it.

XXXXX So there's chapter 1. Feedback please? Con crit? Also quick note: For those of you who read Demon on Display, it's still going. I feel horrible for not updating, but life has been _**terribly **_hectic, and when I was almost done with the chapter, my computer got a virus and all my documents got wiped out. I am almost done with the rewrite, and chapter 8 will be up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Ciel had surprisingly gotten home walking by himself, and ordered Sebastian to leave him be; he was tired and just wanted to sleep. Though Sebastian protested this action (as a noble should never sleep in his clothes) he obeyed and started on his evening chores.

Unfortunately, there was very little to do. This week had been spent mostly investigating the Jack the Ripper Case, and therefore the master hadn't been home. This meant there hadn't been much for the servants to do; There were no broken dishes, destroyed kitchens, or dead flowers. Sebastian didn't have to order anything or make any major changes to the financial records. The young master's schedule was clear for tomorrow, since he was going to need rest. It was several hours until he needed to start breakfast, so after quickly cleaning a few rooms, Sebastian was out of things to do.

In the silence and the darkness, Sebastian was left alone with nothing but his own thoughts, and that damn business card. He took it out and flipped it between his fingers, traces of mud and gravel coating his gloves. In the dim light, he examined the familiar details; it was fairly plain, a slightly off white color with contact information in tasteful black lettering. The designs in the corners of the card seemed forced and out of place; of course, this was because they were. The company requested that William put something on his card other than his information, which he of course thought was unnecessary and unprofessional. However, being the obedient employee he was, he obeyed the request.

Sebastian smirked as he eyed the small dot of black ink next to the T in the reaper's name; it had been done in pen. Evidently the card company still forgot to put it there, even though William regularly threw hissy fits over his little pet peeve. He wondered, was William still doing the dots himself, or did one of his subordinates do it now? He probably did it himself, considering his nauseating perfectionism. Sebastian pressed down on the dot and smudged the ink into a thin line across the paper, chuckling softly to himself.

Within moments the laughter ceased, and the demon's face became blank and emotionless as he tucked the card back into the pocket of his coat. He wasn't supposed to be laughing at those memories. It's just not something to laugh at, even if it is mildly amusing to think about...

Sebastian clicked open his pocket watch and checked the time. It was still just barely past midnight. Without noticing it, he had begun to walk closer and closer to his lightly used bedroom. He wandered in, sat on his bed and hung his coat on the bedpost.

_Well, since we're being nostalgic already..._

Sebastian removed his tie and vest and lay down on his mattress, feeling slightly awkward in such a position; he literally hadn't lay down in weeks. He shifted a few times on the bed, but it was difficult to find a comfortable position. Ciel knew he didn't need sleep, so he skimped a bit on Sebastian's bedding. Alright, he skimped a lot, and now the poor overworked butler was left with a slab of rock adorned with some fluff and a thin blanket that wouldn't block out candle light if folded and held in front of closed eyes.

After several minutes, Sebastian had settled on a bearable position, and buried his head in the pillow (if the poorly stuffed bag of fabric could qualify as such) and breathed in deeply. The scent was bland and clean, the fabric cold and scratchy.

After a while his senses began to wind down, and his body began to slow as he began to fall asleep. He wasn't sure how he had managed it really.

What kind of person could ever sleep like this?

XXXXX

Morning came surprisingly soon.

As he pushed the breakfast card to his young master's room, Sebastian vaguely regretted going to sleep last night. It had been uncomfortable, and in the time that he was laying in bed, he had time to think; the last thing he had wanted last night was time to think. It always gave him the most ridiculous ideas. Ideas that, if given enough time to simmer, seemed less and less ridiculous; eventually it would seem logical to act on them.

"Young master, it is time to wake up." Sebastian declared, throwing open the curtains and tying them back. "This morning I have prepared raspberry coconut almond, white chocolate pumpkin and gingerbread caramel scones, chocolate strawberry crepes, a seven layer fruit parfait consisting of three different kinds of yogurt, fried mushrooms and tomatoes, both black and white pudding as well as an assortment of crumpets and muffins. The tea this morning is a special blend of whole leaf white Darjeeling I had specially imported. What would fit your taste this morning?"

Ciel, usually hesitant to get up, bolted upright in bed as Sebastian rattled off his list of breakfast foods. Was he out of his mind?

"Sebastian, are you out of your mind?" Ciel asked, dumbfounded "What reason could you possibly have for making all that food? Explain yourself!"

Before he lost his will to do so, Sebastian dropped onto one knee and bowed his head.

"Young master, I understand that this is your day to relax, but I have an important request to make."

Ciel stared at his butler, still angry about this ridiculous amount of food, but indicated that he would hear him out.

"Young master, do you remember the shop just a few miles down the road where we purchased your new dresser?"

"The antique shop? Yes, what about it?"

"If you will give me permission my lord... I would like to request to go there today for an hour or two. By myself if you will allow. There is a certain item there with... supernatural qualities that I wish to..."

Ciel yawned, a fake yawn, indicating that he was growing tired of Sebastian's voice blabbering away at him. "What sort of thing is it, and will it disrupt my house?"

"It will have no effect on you, young master. It is not for sale, it stays in the shop. It's one of those items that would be better off out of human hands."

Ciel hissed in mild annoyance. "Bring over the crepes, be back in 2 hours."

"Thank you, my lord." Sebastian responded, bowing deeper. He promptly stood up and brought the boy his breakfast before immediately starting towards the door, knowing that his master started time the second the order left his mouth.

"Oh, and Sebastian." Ciel interrupted as his butler reached the door. "Buy some cherries while you're out, I want pâte à choux with cherry cream later."

"Of course, young master."

_Of course I don't have anything more important to do. _Sebastian thought as he rushed off to complete his errand.

XXXXX

The antique store was hidden at the corners of London, barely noticeable amongst the more popular (and less ominous) establishments. They had first visited it when investigating a case involving some unusual brand of black magic. Sebastian figured that the owner would know something about it; he dabbles in dark affairs.

He hadn't been able to provide any information regarding the case, but he is a clever salesman, and Ciel walked away with a rather nice bookcase and a chair.

When Sebastian entered the shop, there were one or two wealthy couples browsing furniture, and a small child clutching a tattered stuffed animal to his chest as his mother screamed at him in French to put it down. Not a terribly threatening crowd, but it was always best to be cautious. Sebastian browsed around for a few minutes, pretending to be interested in a small desk lamp from the early 1700s.

He approached the counter, and leaned a hand against the aged wood until the shopkeeper took notice. His fingers tapped against the counter in a subtle pattern, which caused the owner to perk up slightly, but not too much. It could very well be coincidence.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, as with any other customer, tapping his fingernail in the reverse pattern that Sebastian had. When the demon reciprocated, the man stopped and briefly closed his eyes and opened them again like a drawn out blink. His eyes remained the same plain brown color, but when Sebastian repeated the action back, his eyes turned momentarily violet, and then back to red.

Sebastian was never sure how this man knew the 'checking code'. Demons used it to confirm each other's presence in the human world, and could communicate basic messages. It was mildly amusing seeing it done by a human.

"I need to contact somebody." Sebastian whispered, sure that nobody around could hear him. The shopkeeper nodded and handed him a small brass key, which he knew from past experience led to a secret door in the back containing the item he needed.

After several more minutes of pretending to be interested in various items, he slipped past the other customers, subtle and casual, entered the room and shut the door. And there it was, flimsily bolted to the wall: a telephone, caked all over with rust and other unknown substances.

It was one of the many ways to communicate with those in other worlds; he had used it before when visiting the human world in other lives, usually to get himself out of trouble. Ironically enough, his use of it this time was going to get him _into _trouble.

But not enough trouble that it actually bothered him.

Taking the business card from his pocket, Sebastian dialed the 22 digit number below the shinigami's name, and waited for the line to connect.

"Shinigami Association, Main Branch, how may I help you?" asked a bored but polite woman on the other end of the line.

Of course this was the perfect time to freeze up.

"Hello?"

Sebastian took a deep breath.

"Is anyone..."

"Dispatch Department, London Division, Management Department, extension 476!" he said in one breath. "... please." he added after a brief silence.

"... one moment please..."

_Hang up hang up hang up. _Sebastian urged himself. He was so foolish for doing this.

The line connected and a flat, exhausted voice from the other side answered.

"Hello?"

Sebastian didn't respond.

"Grell Sutcliffe, if this is you calling me again, I will send in a formal complaint to the Director, and you will be suspended for sexual harassment. Again."

Sebastian breathed in and out slowly before speaking.

"No, William. It's me."


	3. Chapter 3

And now, because I am an evil person, we jump to the past for a little history. Ok, a lot of history.

XXXXX

William slammed down the phone, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist around the receiver. Who do the Directors think they are? He was in serious danger, and they won't even take a moment to listen?

Honestly. It would be their problem when they found his body out on the streets.

Frustratedly going back to his paperwork, William tried to block out the sound of giggling from the other side of his office. It was a distinctive sound, and a disturbingly familiar one. Lately it had been coming from behind the tattered armchair that his boss had dumped there, since he got a better one. Little did he know when he gave this gift to William that it would serve not only as an ugly hand me down, but also as a hiding place for one Grell Sutcliffe.

"Grell Sutcliffe, I can see you behind there. Your hair sheds all over the place every time you peek around the side."

"I do not shed! What a horrible thing to say to a lady!" Grell screamed, continuing to hide.

"You just responded to me, Sutcliffe. I know you are there. If you insist on spending your entire day in my office, at least get some paperwork done." William said, sliding a folder of documents across the floor. "Honestly."

Grell yipped as the folder hit him, papers scattering across the floor.

"If you hadn't left me I wouldn't have to spend the day in here Willy." Grell whined, deciding that revealing his presence was better than paperwork. "It's so boring without you." Grell crawled over to the desk and put his head on top, pouting. "Who were you talking to just now?"

"The General Affair's Director's secretary. I've been trying to set up a meeting with one of the Directors for over a week and they won't even take down a note that I called. Apparently it's a 'personal issue.'"

Grell popped up at the words 'personal issue'. Evidently, in his language, it meant 'ignore the rest of the sentence and sit on my lap'.

"My Will Bill is having problems? I bet I could help."

"Grell Sutcliffe, get off my lap immediately."

William kindly did the work for him, pushing him down off the chair and into the olive green carpet.

"Will, what are you doing? Who are you calling now?"

"Be quiet Sutcliffe." William ordered as Grell pushed himself up. "Yes, hello. I would like to report another case of... yes, it is Sutcliffe again. I know. I tried. Intruding and spying, using unwanted pet names, and unwanted touching. I understand. Thank you."

"Wh-who was that?"

"That was the Personnel Department. They should be here in a few minutes to confiscate you."

"But Willy! I was just trying to be romantic!"

Romantic? Honestly. I have no need for 'romance'.

"Please Willy, I'll be good, I promise! I can't stand to be away from you for so long!"

As William watched his subordinate struggle against the personnel department, he couldn't help but think how miserable it must be to be Grell Sutcliffe. His ridiculous feelings of love, if they were even partly true, must be an awful pain to put up with. There was truly no purpose to such feelings; a shinigami must always keep a calm and neutral demeanor, so his outbursts clearly went against well thought out and purposeful rules.

Now that Grell was gone, William finally had time to work. He signed a few documents, mostly regarding the Supervisor's handbook (he had read it months before his promotion, but had to confirm that he fully understood the rules). He carefully filed the forms in the designated folder and put it to the side of his desk in his 'finished' pile.

Turning his attention to a large envelope, he frowned, tracing the official seal of the Shinigami Dispatch Department with his letter opener. He had been expecting this for a few days now, and he thought that he had accepted the fact that it would arrive; the churning of his stomach indicated otherwise. Ripping the letter open, William sighed and took out the documents, flipping through them quickly.

Missing Soul(s) Report

Investigation Consent Form

Reminder of Rules Regarding Loss of Souls

Temporary Death Scythe Reassignment Notice

William flipped through the papers again and again, finally filling out the necessary information after a few times through. He described the situation, confirmed his understanding and consented to be questioned two times; it was the same information for both cases, but the rules required that he do it for each offense.

When the documents were all filled out, William paused. At the bottom of each page was a line for a signature, each with the same statement: I agree to take full responsibility for the offense detailed in this document, and all deserving punishments associated with said offense.

William pressed his pen to the paper for a moment, but picked it back up and capped it, only leaving a small mark on the page.

Until he had to, he would not take the blame for this.

XXXXX

That night's soul collection would be simple, straightforward and swift. In central London, there was an old woman dying of pneumonia shortly after midnight, most likely in her sleep. It would take an hour at the most, from departure to return.

William was scared out of his mind.

It was silly really, for a Supervisor to be so nervous about a single soul collection, but he was terrified. This was his third solo mission this week, and the previous two had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

He kept alert, focusing upward to the rooftops.

He couldn't see a thing.

William walked towards his destination, gripping tightly onto the two pairs of scissors he had been forced to use after the department confiscated his usual scythe. They had allowed him to use the better version of the scissors, ones that could actually cut, but it was still mildly humiliating for him to have to use such pathetic weapons.

They wouldn't help him if he got into danger.

It seemed like a greater possibility at the moment; he swore he could hear that familiar click click clicking sound along the stone roofs of the surrounding buildings. He began to walk faster, hoping with all his being that it was just a drainpipe or something harmless like that.

And that shadow on the roof was just an alley cat.

In fact, it could just be a chimney. It was a dark night, and he hadn't gotten new glasses for a while. It may very well be a sedentary object up there rather than...

No, it moved with him. It was time to stop pretending; he was in grave danger.

William looped his fingers through his scissors, almost sprinting towards the house now as his eyes fixated on the shadow. It also sped up, moving just a tad faster than he did. That woman was doomed.

Out of breath, William arrived at her house, but didn't take any time to cool down. He crashed through the door (breaking another rule in the process) and located the old woman, laying in her bed.

Silently.

"Damn it!" he growled to himself, stabbing a pair of scissors into the mattress. He dropped to his knees and rested his head in his hand, absolutely loathing that thing which had taken her soul.

His demon follower.

The reaper lifted his head and took on a stoic demeanor, as showing emotion in the presence of humans was strictly forbidden. He pried his scissors out of the mattress, creating a gaping hole, and a mess of white feathers.

And one black one.

In any other circumstance, William would not have given a second thought to the tiny black fluff of a thing on the blanket, but tonight he took it between his fingers and held it closer to his face.

It reeked of demon.

He figured if the Director wanted to complain that his alleged 'demon paranoia' was a 'personal problem', he should probably see this.

XXXXX 


	4. Chapter 4

William returned to the office close to 1 in the morning, slightly flustered beneath the surface, but remaining stoic. He took the elevator to the 17th floor – the dispatch director's office – and hoped that his boss was still there. The Directors usually worked late, William knew from experience; he had spent more than a few late nights helping them out with their busywork. This was still no guarantee that he would be around, but William wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible.

He walked down the hallway of uniform doors, very aware of his footsteps echoing against the freshly shined tile. He was probably the last person here, as per usual. One must do some unpleasant things while working towards management; a fact William knew all too well. However, instead of bringing armfuls of finished documents to the director's office, tonight William only had a small manila envelope containing a demon feather, and hope of being believed.

When he approached the door at the end of the hallway, he saw a light peeking out through the cracks in the form of tiny speckles. The Director was there, but did not want it to be known. He tended to put a blanket or a towel beneath the door in order to hide the light, but it was never a perfect plan. Those who had spent enough time running back and forth between the Director's office and various departments knew when he was there.

William knocked three times on the door, stepped back and waited for a response. He knew there would be one. Though he tried to hide his presence, his boss would always answer if called upon personally. Few people would dare to approach him directly, and those who did always had a legitimate reason – they had to. William truly hoped that this would be considered legitimate.

The door cracked open and a middle aged shinigami peeked out, his oval shaped glasses hitting the sides of the door frame. "Well it's about time, I've been waiting for my coffee... Oh, you aren't Miss Powell. My apologies, Mr. Spears."

"There is no need to apologize, sir."

"Indeed, indeed. Now, what is it you need?"

"I have something important to discuss with you regarding my soul count over the last week. I have something that..."

The Director sighed, cutting William off. "If this is about alleged demon sightings..."

"Sir, I have proof."

The Director's eyes went wide, and William realized what he had done. Interrupting a superior was a horrible taboo, and he could easily be punished for it. He had already broken the rules tonight, and it was likely with his recent record that he would be forced into a temporary demotion.

"William, please come in." the Director said, opening the door just enough for him to enter. This was awful: Directors didn't use first names unless something very serious was going on. William very well may be getting a temporary demotion, on the first week of his new job too. He could never live that down.

The Director sat down behind his desk, and ordered William to sit also. It was fortunate that he was standing in front of a chair; when the Director tells you to sit down, you sit down right where you are.

Stirring a cup of stale, cold coffee the elder shinigami spoke, "William, may I see this evidence?" William placed the envelope on his boss's desk and watched as he opened it. He looked in the envelope and back to William several times before taking out the feather and placing it in front of his employee. "What is this?"

"It is a demon feather, sir. I found it tonight after..." William paused.

"After what?"

"... After it took another one of my souls, sir."

The Director's face grew dark, and his voice became low. "A third one, Spears?"

"I apologize sir... it was..."

"The demon?" he snorted.

"... yes sir."

The older man sighed and removed his glasses, resting his head on his hand. "William, I didn't expect this to happen to you. You always seemed the level headed type. That's why I trusted you as a supervisor."

A lump formed in William's throat. He knew what this meant. He was going to be demoted, suspended, perhaps even fired. This would be the end of him.

"I think, considering your performance this last week, that this new position is becoming difficult for you."

He was preparing himself for the earth shattering words that would end his career.

"I think it would be best if you took a day off."

"A day off?" William repeated, clearly shocked.

"I've seen this happen to more than a few new supervisors. The stress gets to them, they stay up too late working, and they start messing up. I can't afford for mistakes from you right now, we have enough problems already."

"But the feather, I found it..."

"William. Please go home."

"Yes sir..." William said, bowing his head and turning from the room. A day off? This couldn't be happening. The Director had requested that he use up his vacation time before, and that he understood (as much as it bored him) but he had never been forced to take a day off for something like "stress". He wasn't stressed, he didn't get stressed. It just wasn't in his nature.

XXXXX

It had been a while since William had been outside the office this late at night. He was usually assigned earlier collections so that he could fix any mistakes made by his subordinates during the night, so he usually didn't get to leave until about 5 (to get his precious 3 or 4 hours of sleep). When he went home, people were usually waking up and going to their own jobs just as he was leaving his. It was never this quiet, it was never this still. It should have been peaceful, but was far from it.

He could sense what was happening on the roofs above him. It was that _thing _again, that disgusting, greedy, trouble making thief of a thing following him, stalking him, watching him. If only he could pinpoint it, he could...

William stopped, feeling the stare from above, seeing the flitting shadow on the roof. It was there, and it was moving. It _knew_ what he was trying to do, and it didn't want to be seen. Or perhaps it just didn't want to be caught. But William was done with this; he took out his scissors (of all times he needed his scythe) and hurled it towards the demon.

His breath caught in his throat.

It had caught them. It had his scissors.

"You!" he shouted, too infuriated to think of anything else to do as the shadow darted between the walls and landed as a dark blur at the corner, about 20 feet away.

"Demon, what do you want?" William said, imitating perfectly a voice of self assurance, grasping his second pair of scissors in his belt. This was a nightmare; though he found demons to be bothersome and useless creatures, they were intelligent and cunning, not to mention quick. Torture and murder were engrained in their genes, right next to an innate mindless hatred. They had no capacity for compassion or mercy, and never felt regret. One of these creatures was walking towards him, and it was in possession of half his scythe. William was far from self-assured.

"What do I want?" it asked, within feet of him now. He could now see the outline in the darkness, the violet eyes, the pale skin. It was an unpleasant looking thing. When it stopped before him, it lifted the scissors, and William prepared to fight, possibly to the death.

But the demon stopped before killing the reaper, held out the scythe and said "I wanted to return this to you. It seems that it slipped out if your hand and somehow made its way to the roof."

_What? _William screamed inside his head. What was this demon playing at? He took the scythe before the demon changed its mind, and repeated his earlier question. "What do you want, demon?"

"Hm? I believe we have already discussed that. I wanted to..."

William grabbed the demon by the throat and slammed him against the nearest building. "Why are you following me?"

He could both hear and feel the demon's laughter, and forced himself not to shudder at the sound. He knew now that it would haunt him for nights to come, and he could be afraid then, but not now.

"I said 'Why are you following me?'!"

"I wasn't aware that I was."

"I am not in the mood to play with you, demon!" William warned him, pressing a pair of his scissors to the creature's throat.

"I can see that. Those scissors are truly intimidating. I must say I am very scared." he smirked.

"Don't try my patience. I don't waste time on things like you. Answer me now."

"Or you'll kill me? That's something I would like to see. But you wouldn't. There is a strict rule against killing those not on 'the list', isn't there? You're in enough trouble already."

William tried to suppress a shudder. How much did he know? How long had he been watching?

"Because of you." He pressed the scythe harder, almost enough to cut.

"Are you suggesting that _I_ got you in trouble? I'm not the one who can't perform the simple task of protecting souls. I've actually been doing what I am supposed to be doing, unlike some."

"Tch. You mean stealing?"

"Stealing? Not at all. How was I to know that you were trying to collect it? The soul wasn't in your possession, so by definition I didn't steal anything from you. By all rights, I should be the one angry with you for assaulting me like this. Quite barbaric. I believe I shall go complain to my higher ups about this."

"Watch your tongue, vermin. You aren't in a position to be mocking me."

"Is that so? I believe that this is a very easy position to mock you. After all, you have a weapon to my throat, you could kill me at any instant, yet you are too afraid to do so. I find that to be grounds for mocking."

"This is a final warning to you, demon. If I see you again I will kill you on sight."

"Will you? I should be careful then." he smirked, as William released him. The shinigami remained where he was for several minutes afterward to ensure that the demon was not following him home. The last thing he needed was for that thing to know where he lived. When he figured that he was alone (save for a few birds perched overhead on a window ledge) William headed back home, still on guard even as he reached his apartment.

XXXXX


	5. Chapter 5

Hey there! Finally got the time/mental energy to write this up. I hope you like it, I know it's been a long time since my last update.

XXXXX

William travelled these dark streets every night, or every morning rather, but no matter what time of day, no matter what mood he was in, whatever he was thinking about, it was always exactly the same. A generally exhausted and stressed out man going home after a ridiculously long and difficult day (sometimes two or three days when things got busy), fully aware of and possibly contemplating his repetitive and seemingly inescapable job, and how that horrid place dictated his life.

Oh, it was fascinating.

Well, perhaps fascinating was the wrong word to use here but it was the most fitting word that the crow, perched silently on a high up window ledge, could think of. So for now this person, this shinigami, was fascinating.

The bird waited there, watching the windows of the apartment across the street and the large antique clock that was visible from his ledge. It was unusual seeing it display the current time, normally when he watched it, it was several hours later and he knew from the position of the hands exactly when he was allowed to fly. But tonight he had to think about it briefly. At what time had William passed this ledge? How far was his apartment from the ledge? How fast did he walk on average? He would need to consider that he might be moving more slowly tonight after that earlier encounter, so he would allow for a few extra minutes before his departure from the ledge.

But what if William stopped on the way home? Then everything would be destroyed, his entire carefully crafted plan would crumble. He couldn't have that, he had worked so hard! It had taken weeks to decide on this route, to study the timing and behaviour, it would be such a shame for that all to go to waste. Of course, William was a very consistent type of person. There was little chance that he would stop for anything, especially not with a demon after him.

No, this was perfectly safe.

The bird remained there for several more minutes before he left his ledge, sure to be as silent as possible as he flew to the ground. He wouldn't dare make a noise, not even the smallest little coo as he landed on the pavement. At this hour, even the noise of his feathers was too much for his tastes. He quickly hopped around, surveying the area from one corner of the street to the other before he determined that he was alone. Finally.

Folding his wings back the crow slowly began to mutate and transform, a disturbing image indeed as his wings grew larger and began to drop their feathers to reveal pale arms, eyes growing to an unnatural size for a bird until they nearly consumed his entire head. But that was growing too, the dark plumage on the back of his head becoming equally black hair, his beak giving way to pale lips and small but sharp teeth. The change took barely a minute, and soon enough a demon was standing there, surrounded by a pile of black feathers.

He looked himself over, plucked any excess feathers that didn't quite drop from his body, and stretched his neck and limbs. Being a crow was quite uncomfortable, demons were not meant to take those strange animal forms as often as he had been lately. It was useful for hiding, but it was not exactly good for the body. He could only hope it was worth it.

Tch. What was he thinking? _Of course _it was worth it. He was obtaining valuable information, and he could use it later when... oh there it was again, _that scent. _

The demon practically slammed himself against the nearest wall as he picked up the scent again, the one he had been following for weeks on end and become so familiar with that it had grown on him and become some sort of a comfort. It wasn't particularly sweet, unusual, intense, intoxicating... it wasn't particularly _anything _in fact. It was something average, something easily lost in a crowd. He doubted that he would have picked it up at all had he not been looking for it, it was subtle... so subtle that it was almost nothing.

But it was _him. _

It was William's scent, the shinigami who he had been tracking for weeks, and it was one that the creature reveled in. If he hadn't been such a proud creature he might even lay on the ground and immerse himself in the ground he walked on, the scent that he left behind in the air. Of course, he had self respect, so the demon would never dream of it. He was perfectly content pressing himself against walls, running his fingers along corners where he knew the reaper's hand brushed against the brick while walking by, following his footsteps exactly until he ended up at the man's home...

One might wonder why exactly a demon would so adamantly follow a shinigami, especially to the extent that he had. It was true that demons did take an interest in tormenting reapers, perhaps stealing souls from them or taking innocents to destroy their precious soul records. It wasn't unheard of for a demon to seek out a shinigami for their own personal pleasure either, if that was the sort of thing that roused their carnal appetite on a particular occasion. There were multiple theories amongst demons as to whether or not reapers were edible. A soul was simply an essence of being, which was not something reserved to just humans. It was a possibility that they could be consumed, but few have tried.

This particular demon had been stealing souls from this particular reaper, but that would not give him warrant to follow him home. Even the most determined of creatures would rarely go that far for a meal, especially an average one. As for sex, there were far better options around than a shinigami. In a time when incubi and succubi freely roamed the human world, why would a demon travel to the shinigami realm to seek out a partner, and an unwilling one at that. And eating his soul? What good is that to a demon who just ate several months worth of souls in a matter of weeks? He never believed that reapers had souls in the first place, not real ones anyway.

The reason that this demon was following William... well, he couldn't say for sure. He was fascinated by this reaper. He was oddly intriguing, he had been since the moment he first saw him venturing around the streets of London on his midnight soul collection, he was an immediate interest for the demon and he wasn't sure why. So perhaps the reason he was fascinated with William was that he was fascinated with William. What was it about the man that attracted his attention? Why did he care enough to follow him home? There was something about this man, this reaper. He simply wanted to know what it was.

Whatever it was, he liked it. It was actually invigorating, that mysterious quality he possessed. The demon liked walking along the wall and feeling the remnants of the man's presence, and his actual aura becoming stronger as he came closer and closer to his apartment. Yes, he could sense him now, he was right above him, so close. The demon climbed up the wall of the building, not even bothering anymore to be discreet. He had his target.

When he finally reached the correct floor, the demon peered into the window cautiously, hiding behind a cement beam in the wall so he could see his reaper. The view wasn't great, half the time he couldn't even see William, but when he could it was worth watching. The more he saw him, the sooner he could figure it out.

Presently, William was asleep. Sloppily asleep in his armchair, the one he bought long ago but never used. Well, this wasn't exactly a typical behaviour. Then again, tonight, and tomorrow for that matter, were not exactly going to be typical, were they?

XXXXX

There was an unfamiliar glow in front of the shinigami's eyelids when he finally began to stir, which upon opening his eyes and fixing his skewed glasses he realized was sunlight. Wait _sunlight? _That meant that he had slept in! William jumped out of his chair and ran over to the phone. He had to call in to explain why he was running so late, he had to find a reasonable excuse, he... oh right, he had the day off today. William slammed down the phone and sighed. How had he gotten into this mess?

Well... it was his day off. Now what? Usually on his days off he spent the day running errands and tidying up his apartment. He supposed he could do that today, but there wasn't really much to do. He had just gone grocery shopping a few days ago, and his apartment was still clean from last weekend so there was really nothing that he could do in that department.

Well, he should probably check the handbook to see the rules on stolen souls and demon encounters, particularly what the charges against him would be, and what he needed to do to lift them. Yes, that was probably a productive way to spend the day. Going over to his bookcase, William got out the most recent edition of the Shinigami Handbook and flipped through the table of contents until he found the right section.

However, his thoughts were broken by a loud, agonized squawking sound coming from the other room, and he rushed over to his pigeon's cage to make sure that they were alright. He had two messenger pigeons, not exactly pets, he never considered them to be something like that. Calling something a 'pet' implied an emotional attachment for the creatures which did not exist. They were his pigeons, they sent messages for him, and he took care of them.

"What is it?" he asked them, concerned for their well being. Those noises had worried him, it sounded like one of them was in pain. Yet here they were sitting happily in their cage, silent except for the soft confused noises that they made in response to William's slight panic. So nothing was wrong with the pigeons... then where was it coming from?

William knew that the sound was coming from somewhere close by, but at this point it was more irritating than anything. He searched around his apartment trying to find the source of the noise for at least ten or fifteen minutes before he traced it to the balcony. More specifically, the injured crow on the balcony. He went outside and slowly inched towards the creature, and it quickly became clear that the crow had somehow broken a wing. Poor thing.

William knelt down and examined the creature, and carefully moved it so he would be able to pick it up. He had always had a way with birds, which is why he kept pigeons. A crow should not be terribly difficult to take care of, he knew a few things about caring for crows. The bird squawked again when he tried to pick it up, but only ended up squirming on the balcony floor when he did.

"I will not hurt you..." William whispered to the crow, attempting to pick him up again, and surprisingly this time it remained still. "Good. Now, you are going to come inside with me." he said, serious as ever even as he attempted to reassure the bird that everything would be fine. "Do not worry, I will take care of you."

The bird seemed to purr at that, as if he understood what the man was saying and was happy to be taken care of by someone capable, someone who actually cared whether he lived or died. With William he was safe.

William found a box, and lined it with soft cotton cloth so that the crow would be nice and warm and set it down across the room from his pigeon cage, causing them to start panicking. They clearly didn't like this new bird, but William shushed them and explained that he would be staying with them for a little while until he got better. Even then, the pigeons were still on edge (until he threw the cover over their cage that is).

"How did this happen to you?" he asked the crow, though of course he knew he would not get an answer. This was just a crow, but he had a tendency to talk to birds the way one might talk to a person. He lived with pigeons, talking to birds was just what he did. He examined the crow's wing carefully and decided that it would need something to keep it still until it healed. He quickly got his first aid kit and used a cloth bandage to make a splint for the wing (he had done this once or twice when his pigeons had gotten hurt in the past).

"There you are." he said, watching the crow as it sat in the nest he had made, looking around the apartment curiously.

The crow had seen the apartment from the outside many times, but never before had he been inside of it. It was truly a fascinating place; it was neat and clean just like he had expected, it smelled the way he had expected, even the temperature of the room was just as he had expected. Slightly cold for his personal tastes, but probably good enough for a person like William.

"If you are alright there, then you will have to excuse me, crow. I have a demon to deal with." he said, again sounding a little odd for talking to birds. Not that it mattered, no one could hear him anyway except for the animals themselves.

William returned to the other room and resumed his search for the laws related to demons, which were quite complex. He would have to prove that there was a demon somewhere around, track down said demon and then prove that it was in fact stealing souls. How he would do that he did not know, but one thing was unfortunately certain.

He would have to find that demon again.

XXXXX


	6. Chapter 6

The night that followed was arguably the longest of William's life. He had thought the same of many nights before – the nights he spent studying for his final exams, the times he had collections at 5 in the morning, and every time he had the same shift as Grell Sutcliffe – but nothing quite made a night drag on quite like searching the streets for a demon who was nowhere to be found. He returned late, frustrated and painfully unsuccessful.

The moment he got home, William put away his scissors and changed into his pajamas. As exhausted as he was, he still made sure to check on his pigeons and the crow before turning in. He was a little worried about the injured bird, and made sure that he was well fed and comfortable so he would heal up quickly. The wing looked much better today and it was actually a little suspicious. He had dealt with wing injuries in the past, and they never improved over the course of a day. Maybe he had misjudged the severity; he was rather distracted the day before. He decided that he would check it more thoroughly in the morning when he could focus on it better, and finally went to bed.

The moment that the reaper fell asleep, the crow stirred and peered out over the top of his box. He thought the man would never come back; it had actually begun to make him nervous. He hopped out of the box and over to the edge of the bed, where he once again transformed into his demon form and stood over the bed. He smirked as he watched the shinigami sleep. It was quite funny; he had always believed William to be a very intelligent being, but evidently he had misjudged.

_He leaves himself so exposed. He's positively helpless. _

This moment was very exciting, but he couldn't allow himself to get caught up in it. He still had a lot of work to do. After all, he had shattered his arm to get in here; he might as well make it worth his while. He had never put in this much effort for anyone or anything before in his life, so it was mysterious to him that he would bother now. Perhaps a series of tests would shed some light on his sudden fascination with the reaper.

The demon sat on the edge of the bed and watched the man sleep, thinking over what it was he might want with him. He did smell nice, and would likely have a delicious soul. He couldn't tell much from his scent about his past, or any current turmoil. There was little about William that he could take from the scent that he couldn't learn from observation alone, and he seemed to be a rather plain person on the surface. There was nothing there to whet his appetite, and he was far too full from the souls he had stolen to even think of food now. So it couldn't have been hunger.

Perhaps he wanted to kill him? It was a tempting idea, killing the reaper in his own bed. He ran his hand over William's neck, scraping ever so slightly at the flesh before he slowly began to press against his throat. He could kill him right now if he chose to, and he took a moment to wonder what it might be like to hear William's dying screams. They could be lovely, but imagining them was less than satisfying. No, no he didn't want that. The very thought of it put a pit in his stomach.

Curiously, the creature crawled closer and carefully mounted the defenseless reaper, straddling his hips and bracing himself against his chest. Well, this was nice; he rather liked this position. It was possible that his interest in William could be sexual. He was an attractive man, even more so without those glasses, when his hair was rumpled against his pillow. He had admittedly glanced over when he had changed clothing that day, and he was not unhappy with what he saw. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that he had targeted someone solely on that reason. But he had felt pure, unbridled lust before; this was not it.

Disappointed, the demon quietly rolled off him and landed lightly on the mattress beside him. He curled up close and pressed his face against the back of his neck, taking in his wonderful scent. That was one thing that he found to be consistently appealing.

For now, he decided he would sleep. It was quite late, so late that it was bordering on early. When he glanced at the clock, he frowned. William would have to be awake in mere hours, which was not acceptable. He wanted more time for his experimentation. Reaching over, he shut off William's alarm clock and snuggled back up. He didn't want his time to be interrupted by William's job.

Pressing his body against the other's, he began to slowly drift off. Of course, he was careful. He didn't allow himself to fall asleep fully. Before doing so, he turned back into a crow so that he wouldn't be so conspicuous. If he were to be caught, it would undoubtedly foil his well thought out plans, which could not happen. Now in the form of a crow, the demon allowed himself the luxury of sleep. He felt he deserved a rest; after all, he had a lot of work to do in the morning.

XXXXX

That following morning, William awoke to an abrasive noise, a ringing so loud that his initial reaction was to burrow deeper into his pillows until the ruckus stopped. It only took him two or three rings to snap to the conclusion that it was actually his phone, and another one to connect that he should answer it. He threw off his covers (startling a certain bird as he did) and managed to pick up the receiver before the final ring.

"Hello? Yes, it's… _what time?!" _

It was nearly noon, and he had been sleeping this whole time. Why had he not woken up? More importantly, why had they waited so long to alert him of his lateness? Well, clearly it had been their responsibility to call him sooner, but he was the one at fault in the end for not waking up on time. And how was this going to play into his already less than satisfactory job performance this past month? He went through all the possibilities as he dressed and got out the door as soon as possible, beyond worried about the future of his career. He was so worried in fact that he had forgotten to hang up the phone, or even properly finish the conversation before leaving.

Admittedly, propriety was not his first concern this morning (_afternoon_, he reminded himself).

Meanwhile, the shaken and deeply displeased crow shook himself off and found his way out of the blanket mess that was William's bed. He figured this would be much easier a task if he returned to his natural form, which he did, and effortlessly found his way out. Still on the floor, he looked around the room, and chuckled to himself as he noticed how uncharacteristically messy it was. Given, the extent of the disarray was a sock drawer remaining slightly open, and discarded pajamas on the end of the bed. He still felt that he had accomplished something significant, having thrown off William's day. He seemed like a hard man to mess up.

The demon proceeded to stretch, much like a cat, and yawned. His broken arm was still tender, but nearly usable after a 24 hour period of rest. It wouldn't be too long before he was completely healed. Since he was alone now, he figured that it would be alright to jump back onto William's bed and curl up in the slight indent that the reaper had left. He smiled, happy to find that his warmth and scent still clung to the sheets. Closing his eyes, he debated going back to sleep for a moment but that was no good. He had so much to explore.

Once he was able to drag himself back out of bed, the first thing he looked through was William's clothes. As expected, they were dry cleaned and well pressed. He had a strange urge to maybe try them on, just to see how they felt against his skin. But no, that would be impolite. Disrespectful, even. He settled on, instead, swiping a tie from his closet and using it as a sort of scarf (it would be years before he would learn how to properly wear this type of garment; for now he found it to just be an amusing looking thing).

Hearing a soft coo from across the room, the demon couldn't hold back a smile. He skipped over to the pigeons' cage and threw off the cover. The birds twittered and flapped their wings at the demon's intrusion, but that didn't stop him from petting the closest of William's messengers on the stomach. He had always liked the feeling of feathers.

"Would you mind answering some questions for me about your master?" he asked the birds. The pigeon cooed at him and looked at him with its beady little eyes. It seemed these pigeons were loyal to William and would not answer. "Quite useless, aren't you?" he muttered, tossing the cover back over the cage. Well, that led to absolutely nothing. "Pigeons. Tch." He scoffed, turning on his heel.

Well, no matter. He didn't need any birds to tell him what he could find out on his own. William had a rather small apartment, but there was much to learn from it, and he had hours to do so. Days, weeks, longer if his plan went well. Which it would. He was not the type of demon who made mistakes.

XXXXX

William got to work in just under ten minutes, electing to sprint there instead of taking his usual public transport route. He was flustered and disheveled, something which attracted the attention of everyone in the office. But what did he care, today at least, what any of them whispered as he walked by? He doubted he would see any of them again. If this must be his last impression on them… well, that was out of his hands for once.

He knew where to report without being told: floor 17, to the director's office. It took more than a few minutes for him to work up the nerve to knock on the door. It opened so immediately that William jumped back, a bit shaken. The director's expression showed a profound sense of disappointment, but William couldn't allow himself to break eye contact with the elder reaper for even a second. When the director returned to his desk, William followed behind silently and sat down, awaiting his punishment.

The two reapers sat in a heavy silence as the director reviewed William's file. He read through the various papers a few times, marking them up and copying down the information for his official records. William couldn't see the benefit of his being here for this spectacle. It was very clear that he was going to face some brand of consequences, and found it unprofessional that his director couldn't have gone through this information before he arrived. After quite a while, the director closed the file and sighed.

"Since you are a manager, I know that you are familiar with the handbook, but in case you have forgotten, here is a review of your transgressions and their consequences, your hearing notice, suspension slip and notice of reassignment" he said, handing William a pile of documents.

William looked through the papers and slowly began to process the information he had just been given by his boss. "… how is this possible?" he muttered to himself.

"You know the policy, William. You have …"

"If I am suspended, why am I being reassigned?" he interrupted.

"You know that we are understaffed, so you are only suspended from your position as supervisor. You will be returning to your former post until your case is reviewed by the board and a decision is made. We will bring in a replacement manager from another branch during your suspension."

"… understood, sir" William said quietly. He was in disbelief, even as he read the papers over again.

"Unless there is anything that needs to be brought to my attention, you are dismissed" muttered the director as he thumbed through the next file on his desk.

"Yes, sir"

William left the office in a daze, clutching the papers tightly in his hand. He knew he would have to bring it to the front desk to be processed, but he took his time getting down there. It seemed much less important now that everything get done right away. Every so often, he would stop to look over his papers to ensure that this was actually happening and much to his dismay, it still was, every time. And every time, it became less and less of a potent reality. By the time he reached the front door, he was almost numb to it.

Suspension. It had always been such an awful word in his mind, an end-all to all he had ever worked for. It was temporary though, right? Yes, it was temporary. It had to be temporary. They wouldn't, they _couldn't _send him back to the lower ranks. Not in their right minds. He'd put far too much into his work for them to do that, right? Right.

This could be considered another day off, couldn't it? That's what he was always hoping for while being constantly overworked, might as well take advantage of what he had. Maybe get out of the house for a while. Just for a few hours. Temporarily.

With his papers tightly in his fist, William wandered aimlessly around the city. Around familiar blocks, down streets he never knew were there, around a small park a few times, and to a mostly empty café, where he bought and didn't drink an overpriced coffee. Day off. Exactly what he always wanted. To stare at a single brick accent wall for a few hours (it added 'ambiance' to the place, or something) while a teenage barista gave him increasingly concerned looks from across the room.

Eventually, William snapped himself out of his daze. The sun had begun to set, or at least lower, and he decided that was a good cue to leave. He tossed out the cup of cold coffee and left without a word to the employee (who seemed genuinely shocked that he had moved at all). Maybe it was time to go back home.

No, it was definitely time to go back home.

Just as before, William's course was fairly slow, full of unnecessary detours and circles around meaningless landmarks. It wasn't until it started actually getting dark that he returned to his apartment. He still couldn't trust the city at night.

As usual, he took the stairs up to his apartment, locked the door and made his way to his bedroom, dropping the papers he forgot he was holding onto his desk as he passed by. Everything was exactly as he left it this morning: slightly off. Sock drawer open, pajamas on the bed, shower still on…

No, no, no, that wasn't right.

Instantly on guard, William practically dove for his scissors and approached the bathroom door. He didn't leave the shower on, he hadn't even had time to shower this morning. What kind of person would sneak into his apartment just to…

Oh, Grell Sutcliffe was definitely fired.

He rammed his shoulder into the door, only to discover that it was unlocked, and was just barely able to catch himself on the edge of the sink. His subordinate must have heard the noise, since he heard the familiar squeak of the shower nozzle being turned off and the curtain being moved aside.

William chose to keep his eyes straight ahead on the door as to avoid going blind.

"Sutcliffe, I do not know how you got in here, but rest assured I will not…"

"You let me in." answered a much smoother, but just as familiar voice.

The demon took the following moment of confusion to snag the reaper's weapon.

"This is dangerous to have in here, William" he sighed, spinning the scissors around his finger for a moment before lodging the blades firmly into the granite countertop. "It's slippery."

"How are you in here?!" William grabbed the creature's throat. "And why?!"

"As I said, you let me in." he chuckled. "You were quite nice about it too. You carried me in and set me up a box, don't you remember? I would have been perfectly happy with the couch, but I suppose a box is the next best option."

"A box?! What are you talking abou-…" William squeezed tighter as the realization set in. "The crow. You are the crow" he gritted.

"My, you are getting clever. Though, I can't give you too much credit. You still seem to think I need to breathe."

William only pressed harder against his throat, hoping to disprove the demon's statement, but he could clearly feel the vibrations of laughter against his palm. Hoping to cause at least some damage, he shoved the demon into the wall, pushing his arm against his chest while maintaining his grip on his neck.

"_What are you doing here?!"_

"Well, I _was _cleaning myself, but you chose to interrupt. Of all people, you should understand the importance of personal hygiene."

"_Why are you in my house?!" _he snapped, pushing the demon higher up the wall so his feet dangled just barely an inch above the ground.

"If this is how you treat your guests…"

"You're not a guest! You deceived me into letting you in, and by all rights I should kill you"

"That seems a bit harsh. Perhaps this is the reason you still live alone? All I've ever done is express a mild interest in you, and now you threaten to kill me. You invited me in, I have every right to be here."

"Stop saying that! I did not _invite _you."

"Now William." The demon said in a near whisper. "Am I to believe that a well-educated young reaper such as yourself, for all your shameless racism toward my kind, doesn't even know how to protect yourself against us?"

With a swift kick, William hit the floor so hard his vision went grey. When his vision returned, the demon was standing over him (thankfully he had taken William's moment of disorientation to put on a towel), surrounded by the slightest hint of shadow.

"Do you not know the most common manner in which humans become 'possessed' by demons?" he sighed, met with silence. He really thought reapers were better than this. "Many of them just carry us in, the poor idiots. They play around with their little game boards, or their 'ancient artifacts', and they bring us right into their homes."

"I don't see the relevance of this information." William grumbled, a blatant lie. "

"Don't you? You carried me in, William. You invited me. Strictly speaking, it isn't the most 'legal' way of going about things but as I said, I have developed a mild interest in you."

"Then you intend to possess me?" William scoffed.

"Oh no, that would be rude. I simply attached myself to a few of your items, I didn't think they would mind. I can tell you which ones if you would like, for the price of a contract."

"Never."

"Then I suppose I will just have to stay here." The demon muttered, clearly getting bored with the conversation, and exited to the bedroom.

William was on his feet in seconds, attempting to pry his scissors out of the stone counter, but to no avail. Though he was clearly a lesser demon, the creature had enough strength to make them impossible to remove. Even so, William gave one final attempt, wanting nothing more than to rid that demon of whatever 'soul' it might have. It was a losing battle.

William gritted his teeth and let the handle go. He would deal with the scythe later. Now, he needed to focus on getting rid of that demon. There was no way he was letting that creature take over his home.

This would be temporary.

XXXXX

Wait wait wait… did I just update a story?

I did!

I bet you have all sorts of comments after that… year and a half hiatus.

So feel free to review.

And please don't beat me with a stick.


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